


Fall

by Bluesummers



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Quentin, Bisexuality, Canon Gay Character, Canon Threesome, Caring, Cheating, Drunk Eliot, Drunk Sex, F/M, Friendship, Gay Sex, Het and Slash, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, OT3, One Shot, Self-Hatred, Slash, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Top!Quentin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 17:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10416957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluesummers/pseuds/Bluesummers
Summary: Drunk sex full of seduction, repressed lust and self destruction - as only the Physical Kids are capable of.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So nervous about this... threesomes are hard to write! But it had to be done, right? This fandom needs more of this infamous threesome!
> 
> As always, written for the books but can be enjoyed by the series fans as well. Basically, Janet=Margo.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own The Magicians.

 

 

Even when shitface drunk, Eliot made sure to bow his head every time he laughed. To hide his crooked teeth, Quentin suspected. It was probably an unconscious gesture by this point in his life.

Eliot shoved the almost full water bottle into Quentin's chest.

"Here, see? I'm drinking! Water!" Eliot opened his mouth like a patient at a psychiatric hospital, then slumped back onto his pillows. It wasn't that funny, but Quentin still burst out laughing for what must have been the millionth time that evening. They were all more than a little tipsy.

Eliot shut his eyes and lay there panting and sweaty. The blanket they had just covered him with was already tangled at his feet. Damp strands of hair stuck to his forehead. Maybe it was just Quentin's current position, sitting on the carpet right next to the bed, but it was so easy to reach out and brush Eliot's hair away, so he did. Eliot leaned into the touch and let out a small chuckle, slightly bowing his head again. A shiny tear rolled down from his eye and straight to the pillow. He became quiet and still after that.

Troubled, Quentin lifted his head to where Janet lay on the bed, but she obviously couldn't see the tear from her spot. She was still laughing, curled up against Eliot's other side in that revealing dress of hers, lazily undoing the first few buttons of the passed-out man's shirt. Quentin stared, puzzled.

"Come on, Q," Janet said too loudly, "you know how angry he'll get if we let him sleep in it."

Quentin sighed and put away the water bottle. His hands were unsteady as he worked the lower buttons, and by the time he unbuttoned two, Janet had already finished the rest. But she didn't take the shirt off, just let it fall open and reveal Eliot's torso, slim and pale in the low light. He was drinking so much, yet getting skinnier by the day.

Janet was smiling, her eyes studying Quentin's confused expression while she eased down Eliot's body.

"The poor baby," she murmured, and planted a light kiss next to Eliot's navel. Her hands were already unbuckling his belt. "What?" she laughed at the look Quentin gave her, "it's uncomfortable."

Quentin noticed how casually Janet was undressing Eliot, and couldn't help but wonder whether it wasn't the first time she'd used his dipsomania as an excuse to strip him. But when Janet leaned farther over Eliot's abdomen and her loose dress moved to allow a glimpse of her braless chest, Quentin dropped all his speculating at once. He wanted to fuck her. Have been wanting to the entire evening.

"Go on, give him a goodnight kiss."

Janet reached for Quentin's neck and pulled him closer, until they were gazing at each other from both sides of Eliot's stomach. Her hands made Quentin's skin prickle. He tried not to look down her dress too blatantly. It wasn't Eliot he wanted to kiss.

Grinning devilishly, Janet ran her tongue along the waistband of Eliot's pants, then prodded underneath, licking between fabric and skin. Quentin stared as the pink muscle moved across his friend's body and felt heat pooling in his groin, stirring him. Oh well, if that's what it took to get that damn dress off. Tentatively, Quentin brushed his lips against Eliot's skin. It was surprisingly soft.

Janet slowly licked her full lips, and without thinking Quentin grazed his teeth against Eliot's stomach. The other man emitted a soft moan, which for some unknown reason made Quentin bite down again, harder. He slowly ascended the bed, nipping his way along the delicate skin, edging forward as Janet seductively crawled backward. Tired of this little game, Quentin climbed over Eliot and tried to catch Janet's lips with his own. Then his head went dizzy, the world seemed to shift, and he collapsed on top of Janet on the other side of the bed. They both laughed, drunk and aroused, hands going straight for each other's garments, Eliot and his belt forgotten.

Without ceremony, Quentin grabbed Janet's thin dress and yanked it over her head, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. Revealing as those were, he impatiently took them off as well. Janet didn't seem to care about her nudity, or about Quentin still being completely clothed. She just lay down on her back, stretched, and giggled again. This time Quentin forsook her lips and went straight for her chest, taking a small breast into his mouth and sucking hard. One of his hands cupped the neglected breast, squeezing roughly, while the other groped up and down her bare thigh. Janet laughed and cried out and laughed again, wrapping her gorgeous legs around Quentin's waist. She was loud and slender and free-spirited and everything that Alice was not.

The sudden thought about Alice made Quentin falter, but then Janet's fingers were unzipping his fly, and Quentin pulled back just long enough to get out of his shirt while his pants and boxers were being shoved down and then kicked off. The chill hit his heated skin, and he wanted to feel Janet's warm body against him again, but Janet's hands were suddenly pressed against his chest, holding him back.

Her eyes roamed his body, and she hummed appreciatively.

"Not bad, Q."

Quentin knew it was just for show. After all, she'd already seen him naked. But he didn't care, not when her fingers were scraping down his chest and stomach just a little too hard, making their way to his awaiting cock. She stopped right next to it, her hands hovering, almost touching. He rolled his hips forward, but she immediately pulled back, just far enough. Then her fingers drew unfamiliar patterns in the air and a shiny violet light was shot to his erection.

"What the…!"

"For protection," Janet reassured with a grin, "who knows what Alice is hiding."

Quentin looked away and swallowed.

"Oh, sorry, shouldn't I've mentioned her?"

Her fingers slowly closed around his hard length.

"Don’t worry, Q, take your time," she winked at him as her skilled hand moved up and down, teasing his tip every time, "that spell lasts for three whole hours."

But it didn't take three hours.

Soon enough Quentin lost his patience, nudged her hand away and spread her legs. Janet was completely exposed in front of him, but she just looked up calmly and gave Quentin that damn knowing smile. So he took hold of her small hips, positioned himself, and pushed inside her.

Quentin didn't bother building up a rhythm. He just clumsily thrust into Janet's heat, and out, and in again. It was nice at first, her tightness and her high-pitched moans and her long flexible legs over his shoulders. Once they'd lost their balance and almost fell, and Janet accidently kicked Eliot, who grunted in annoyance, and they both laughed again.

But then Quentin noticed how detached Janet seemed, indifferent even. She was still moaning now and then, but it was painfully clear that he wasn't driving her toward any sort of climax. He kept moving, frustrated and uncertain, and realized that while still feeling hot and needy, he didn't really enjoy himself anymore, either.

He suddenly recalled Janet's obvious admiration for that imbecile Richard, and wondered if the other man had been able to make her come. And he thought about Josh's hot new girlfriend, and how unfair it was that he of all people got to have her.

Quentin bent forward and drove into Janet harder and faster. By now she wasn't even bothering to make sounds anymore. He was too scared and humiliated to look at her. Quentin shut his eyes.

Long, elegant fingers sensually brushed up Quentin's neck and threaded themselves in his hair. He looked up, confused, and saw Eliot kneeling down beside them. His eyes were a bit unfocused, and his cheeks were stained with pink from all his drinking.

Eliot gently tugged on Quentin's hair, pulling him up, and slowly moved forward. Quentin stared at his lips, twisted and wet, and felt this intense pressure in his chest, this longing. He almost leaned in to meet him, before Eliot bent farther down, and positioned himself between Quentin and Janet.

Janet's legs were still propped up against Quentin's shoulders, but the rest of her was now mostly hidden beneath Eliot's clothed back. From the way their heads moved and the wet sloppy sounds they emitted, it looked like Eliot was kissing her.

Quentin wasn't sure what he should do, or what exactly he was feeling. Even with his dick still buried inside Janet, he was kind of left out, and useless, and jealous… but of whom?

Eliot's kiss made Janet come alive. Quentin saw her arms wrap tightly around Eliot's neck, pulling him closer as she let out a needy moan. Eliot's own hands were shrugging off his shirt, giving Quentin a full view of his slender pale back. There was a long, faint scar across it. Quentin didn't think he was allowed to touch.

When the shirt was out of the way, Janet's hands gripped Eliot's shoulder blades and violently raked down his back, her fingers leaving bright red marks at their wake. Her legs also moved, coiling around Quentin's hips and pulling him deeper into her. Eliot licked down her neck, and she tightened painfully and deliciously around Quentin's cock.

He began to move again, back and forth, his eyes fixed on Janet's hands on Eliot's back, not sure which one of them held his gaze. The hands moved lower and lower, down the narrow curve of Eliot's waist, and along the oblique lines leading to his ass. She tugged his pants down as much as she could, and his underwear with them, till the middle of his ass. Her fingers were struggling to grab it but not quite reaching, instead settling for feeling up the upper part of his cheeks, scratching across the skin, screaming her lungs out. Quentin studied every movement of Eliot's body, every inch of his butt he could get a glimpse of. He yearned to touch him, too. He moved faster.

Janet came with a shudder, and surprisingly without a sound, except for a faint gasp. Eliot instantly withdrew to lie down on his back on his side of the bed. Quentin pulled out and collapsed face-down between the two of them. All he could hear was Janet's fast breathing.

"And that, Quentin," Eliot drawled, "is how you pleasure a woman." That made the other two giggle, like they were sharing a private joke. Quentin felt himself blushing.

"Oh, darling, look," Janet told Eliot, and Quentin could practically hear her smile, "poor little Q didn't come."

Quentin felt her hands on his shoulders, turning him around on his back, and he let her. Eliot turned to face them, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Perhaps he wants something else," he said and ran his hand up Quentin's heaving chest.

Janet's fingers followed the trail of soft hair from Quentin's navel to his cock, wrapping themselves tightly around his aching length and pulling on it way too slowly. Quentin moaned deeply.

"Am I right, Quentin?" Eliot lifted up Quentin's chin and held him there, forcing their eyes to lock even as Quentin continued to moan, "Do you want something else?"

Just the sound of Eliot's voice made Quentin shudder. He felt Janet's hand on his hard cock and Eliot's warm breath against his mouth. He was already so hot and stimulated and desperate. He was drowning in Eliot's intense bright eyes. Quentin nodded shakily.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Eliot's hand joined Janet's on Quentin's groin. Someone was stroking his length and someone was playing with his balls. He didn't care who was doing what.

"Y… yes…" Quentin managed, barely, between sighs and groans. He heard Janet chuckle, but didn’t even care.

"That's better. You know," Eliot went on lazily, and a finger grazed along the skin just behind Quentin's sack, "my head hurts like a bitch. I thought you were supposed to be taking care of me."

Eliot lowered his eyes, supposedly offended, and through all his sexual frustration Quentin actually felt a little guilty. Then the finger moved to prod against Quentin's ass, and he jerked.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to penetrate you. I'm too wasted to move, anyway." Eliot lay back down. "So?"

Quentin wanted Eliot's hand back on his dick. "So… what…?"

"My head hurts… and touching you like this made me so hard…" Eliot looked up at him with sad eyes, but Quentin's own eyes couldn't help but go straight to Eliot's obvious bulge. "Aren't you going to take care of me?"

Maybe it was the loss of hands on his cock, but only now Quentin actually registered that he'd been letting Eliot touch him. That he felt a desire, a really strong desire, for the other man. And that Eliot was asking Quentin to fuck him.

Janet rested her head against Quentin's shoulder.

"Look at him," she sighed, "it should really be impossible for someone this drunk to get so hard this fast."

"I know," it was Eliot who answered her, "can you imagine I'd actually have to _choose_?"

Quentin barely paid attention to what was going on. He was still staring at Eliot's clothed erection. That sight, Eliot's pleading voice, the notion of fucking him… all flooded Quentin and made his already hot body feel like it was on fire.

He acted without thinking, reaching forward to undo Eliot's pants.

"Thank God," Eliot whispered.

Eliot lifted his hips, allowing Quentin to pull the pants down and taking off his underwear himself before spreading his legs wide open. Quentin instantly lifted those long legs up, took one look at Eliot's opening, and thrust inside.

The soft tight pressure around his cock was almost paralyzing, and for a moment Quentin just prayed he won't come instantly. But he couldn't wait, couldn't stop his body from pulling out and slamming back in, harder this time. And again. And again. And then he was fucking Eliot.

Vaguely, he noticed Janet reaching between them, her hand moving jerkily, stroking Eliot. Her other hand was pumping and curling between her own legs.

But Quentin's mind wasn't functioning. It was filled with half images and half thoughts. He thought about how Eliot had never once tried to seduce him back at Brakebills. He thought about all the times he had to watch Eliot flirt and make out and fuck other men at parties. And now Eliot was his, lying beneath him, crying out every time Quentin drove into his ass.

Quentin gripped the other's thighs tightly, fingers digging into skin, and shoved himself into Eliot even harder, brutally, mercilessly. Then he leaned forward, sinking in deeper still, and finally kissed those weird, tempting lips, tonguing and biting. And Eliot loved the rough treatment, gasping and kissing back and tightening around Quentin.

Quentin came without even realizing it was going to happen, suddenly tensing and shaking and groaning and releasing inside Eliot.

He toppled onto the other man, resting his head against his chest, lightheaded, exhausted, and breathing hard.

Eliot didn't say or do anything, so Quentin pulled out and let himself fall back down in the center of the bed. There was stickiness against his stomach, telling him that somehow, at some point, Eliot came.

He reached down and pulled the blanket up. Eliot grabbed it and rolled onto his side, away from Quentin, taking most of the cover with him. When Janet saw Eliot was sleeping far from her with Quentin in the middle, she rolled to the other side, leaving Quentin alone, cold and confused in the middle.

The bed wasn't big enough for the three of them, and Quentin could feel both Eliot and Janet against his arms and legs. It was making it difficult to ignore what had just happened, or to stop thinking about it. About how terrible it was, and about how absolutely wonderful.

So Quentin thought about it, right up until half a minute later, when he drifted off to sleep.

 

 


End file.
